


Just One Question (How Do You Build a Friend?)

by xxxbookaholic



Category: New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Child Neglect, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Getting to Know Each Other, M/M, Pre-Canon, Pre-Game Oma Kokichi, Pre-Game Personalities (New Dangan Ronpa V3), Pre-Game Saihara Shuichi, Spoilers, Strangers to Friends to Lovers, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-06
Updated: 2020-12-06
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:53:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27909280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xxxbookaholic/pseuds/xxxbookaholic
Summary: Society is fucked, but Kokichi Ouma definitely isn't.
Relationships: Oma Kokichi/Saihara Shuichi
Comments: 6
Kudos: 98





	Just One Question (How Do You Build a Friend?)

**Author's Note:**

> I recommend listening to I Built a Friend by Alec Benjamin while listening to this! (although anyone alec benjamin song would have pretty much the same effect.)

Society is fucked. That was what Shuichi had decided all those years ago, when his parents left him with nothing but a checking account and an empty apartment. People were fucked, the world was fucked, and most of all, he himself was fucked.

Danganronpa, however, was different. It was a world where nothing was unpredictable, where everything happened in a pattern. Danganronpa was not fucked.

So he closed himself off from everyone else. If his peers didn’t want to talk to him, then that was fine. He didn’t need them to be happy; all he needed was the killing game.

These were the things he repeated to himself as he sat in class, watching everybody else pair up for the school project. Nobody nudged his shoulder, nobody asked, “hey, do you want to be my partner?”

“Raise your hand if you don’t have a partner,” his teacher said, standing in front of the classroom and surveying her students. Shuichi put his hand up, keeping his eyes trained on the desk in front of him.

Society is fucked. He repeated these words like a mantra. He repeated them so many times that he almost believed them.

Almost.

》* 。 • ˚ ˚ ˛ ˚ ˛ • 。* 。° 。* 。 • ˚《

The sun blared down on his shoulders, burning him through the fabric of his uniform. His backpack weighed him down, making him walk slower than he would’ve liked to. Silently, Shuichi cursed the government for making school start in the summer. He wished classes would at least wait to start until October; rain was way better than heat stroke.

Tutoring had stretched much longer than necessary, keeping him behind until five in the afternoon. Danganronpa would be airing its next episode in twenty minutes; he didn’t have time to dawdle. And yet there he was, not even half-way home yet, walking down the sidewalk and trying his best to avoid making eye contact with tourists.

There was nothing especially grand about his town. He didn’t see why there had to be so many tourists in the first place. _Just another thing to curse._ He swore he saw a girl wave at him from across the street but he ignored her, much more interested in making it home. Nobody was friendly to him unless they wanted something. He learned that the hard way.

The buzzing in his pocket didn’t stop for even a second, only further proving that fact. He knew it was just his mom, probably sending him high school application forms. _You only have one more year of middle school left_ , she had told him the night before, whispering into her phone. _I expect you to make the right choice and follow your father and I’s path!_

_Yeah, right,_ Shuichi thought bitterly, glaring at the concrete. _Of course that’s what they expected._

“You really shouldn’t tug on your hair like that,” a voice suddenly said from in front of him. Shuichi jumped, stopping in his tracks and whipping his head up to eye the person in front of him. Said person was just a boy who looked around the same age as Shuichi, maybe a bit younger. He wore a loose-fitting school uniform and checkerboard hairpin, blending in with all of the other students that came and went down that street.

Shuichi dropped his hands from his hair. He didn’t even notice. “Oh,” he said, furrowing his eyebrows. What was the point of telling him that?

“Because,” the boy began to explain as if he could read minds, “if you keep that up, you won’t have any hair left! And you don’t want that, do you?”

“No,” Shuichi replied quietly, tugging his hat over his eyes awkwardly. The boy didn’t seem malicious or even disgusted by the habit. Most people who pointed out things like that sounded judgmental but he didn’t. _He’s weird._ That was the conclusion Shuichi came up with.

“And what’s with the one-word responses?” The boy continued talking, planting his hands on his hips. “Can you at least cut me some slack? I’m just trying to help.”

Shuichi flinched, toying with the brim of his hat. “I’m sorry.”

“Oooh! Two words!” He cheered, bringing his fists to his chin. Despite his teasing tone of voice, his smile was innocent and pure. Seraphic. “Well, I hope you’ll stop for your hair’s sake. Have a nice day,” he dropped his hands and made his way around Shuichi.

He twisted on his heel and turned but the mysterious boy was already practically gone, disappearing down an alleyway. Shuichi was considering walking after him, though what he would say, he wasn’t sure, when he scanned his watch and saw the time. _5:18_. Shit, Danganronpa was airing in seven minutes.

Pushing the boy to the back of his mind, Shuichi broke into a run, dodging the people passing by and not waiting for street lights to turn green. He didn’t have time to wait; every second he stopped was another second that could be spent preparing for Season 51.

The buzzing in his pocket never did stop.

》* 。 • ˚ ˚ ˛ ˚ ˛ • 。* 。° 。* 。 • ˚《

Shuichi looked over the Danganronpa forums, reading over everybody’s opinions on the newest episode. The Ultimate Baker seemed to be a fan favorite. _Why?_ He wondered, fingers hovering over the keyboard hesitantly. Quite honestly, he couldn’t see her appeal. She was boring. Although, that wasn’t a surprise seeing as she was a _baker_. The Ultimate Politician was way more interesting.

He considered adding onto the conversation but decided against it before he could press _enter_. There was no need to start an argument.

Shuichi spent a few more hours looking through everybody’s replies. It was already two in the morning by the time he finally shut down his computer and set it on his desk.

He pulled his blankets up to his chin and pretended he didn’t hear the way his footsteps echoed throughout his whole house, serving as a reminder that he really was alone.

》* 。 • ˚ ˚ ˛ ˚ ˛ • 。* 。° 。* 。 • ˚《

“Oh, hair tugger!” A familiar voice called out. Shuichi glanced up to see the boy from a few days ago sitting on an upside-down cardboard box, looking the same as he had when they first met. “So you aren’t bald yet, huh?”

“I’m not going to go bald,” he argued fruitlessly, tightening his grip on the hem of his jacket. Seriously, what was this kid’s deal?

“Not anymore,” the boy cheered, “for I, Kokichi Ouma, supreme helper, has saved you!” So he has a name. _Wait, Supreme Helper?_

“I guess so,” Shuichi mumbled, dropping his gaze to the concrete once more.

“I gave you my name, so what’s yours?”

Shuichi whipped his head up. “Huh?” Had he heard him right?

“What’s your name?” Kokichi repeated, kicking his legs back and forth.

Shuichi adjusted his hat, just so he could have something to do with his hands. “Saihara Shuichi,” he replied, fingers twitching.

Kokichi’s eyes lit up at the response. “A mysterious name for a mysterious boy! It’s perfect,” he laughed, bringing his hand up to cover his smile.

“Mysterious?” Shuichi echoed. He’d been called a lot of things; a freak, a pushover, a door mat, his parent’s legacy. What he had never been called, however, was ‘mysterious’. Or perfect, for that matter.

“Yup,” Kokichi leapt off his box and sauntered over to his side, his smile never leaving his face for a second. “I think it’s the hat.” He tapped on said hat and Shuichi took a step back instinctively, wrapping his arms around his waist.

“Is that so?” He murmured, his fingers gripping the sides of his uniform.

Kokichi didn’t answer that. Instead, he asked, “what school do you go to?”

“Spring Hill Middle School.”

“Oh! I go to Jindai Middle School. It’s just a few blocks away from that,” Kokichi explained. _Did this boy never run out of energy?_ “Well, I have to go now, but I hope we can see each other again someday, Saihara-chan!” He walked away and, just like last time, disappeared down an alleyway, hands on his hips.

That was another thing Shuichi rarely ever heard. ‘ _I hope we can see each other again.’_ If he were being honest, he hoped they saw each other again, too.

But if there was one thing he was good at, it was deluding himself, so he repeated to himself his familiar mantra. _If his classmates were fucked, then this boy most likely was, too._

And that couldn’t possibly be a lie.

》* 。 • ˚ ˚ ˛ ˚ ˛ • 。* 。° 。* 。 • ˚《

The next time he saw the boy, it was just a day after Danganronpa’s new episode aired. Autumn had finally come, painting the trees orange and the sky gray. Shuichi tugged his jacket a little tighter around him to block out the cold.

He was the one who greeted Kokichi this time. “Hi,” Shuichi murmured, tugging on his coat. Kokichi spun around from where he had been standing, staring at the sky.

“So we meet again, Saihara-chan!” He giggled, bouncing forward until he was only a foot away. “It’s good to see– “ when he glanced at the backpack Shuichi had hanging off of his arm he froze. “Is that a Chihiro keychain?” He asked, pointing at the Danganronpa figurine dangling from his bag.

Shuichi flinched, tilting his head around to look at what Kokichi was referring to. “Yeah!” He jumped to attention, letting go of his jacket. “Do you watch Danganronpa?”

“I’ve seen up to season six. My dad is on the TV a lot so I don’t really get the chance to watch,” Kokichi admitted. “But I really like Chihiro.”

“It’s unfortunate you aren’t caught up,” Shuichi frowned. Season eleven was by far the best; not watching it was a crime. “Do you not have any friends you can watch it with?”

Kokichi giggled, his eyes a little bit duller than they had been before, and rubbed the back of his neck. “Not many people want to be my friend.”

“Ah,” Shuichi breathed, bringing his arms around his waist once more. He couldn’t believe he was about to do this. “Well, if you want, you could come over to my house. The TV is always free.” Having somebody else in his house didn’t seem very appealing, to be honest. _Why did he ask in the first place?_

Kokichi tilted his head, pondering it for a second, and then asked, “would your parents be okay with it?”

“They won’t be home so I can’t imagine they’d care,” he said.

“Long jobs? I get it. My mom works all day most of the time. Well, if you’re sure it’s fine then I’d love to come! When?”

Shuichi wasn’t sure it would be fine but it was too late for him to back out now. “Tomorrow works. Here,” he pulled out his phone and held it out to Kokichi, “put in your number and I’ll text you the address.”

Kokichi did as he was told. When Shuichi got the cellphone back, he texted his apartment’s address, just as he said he would. There was a beeping from Kokichi’s pocket, signifying that the message had been sent. “Well, I’ll see you then, I guess! Have a nice day, Saihara-chan,” he smiled, and just like last time, disappeared down the same exact alley.

Shuichi didn’t stick around for too much longer after that, eager to get home and look through the Danganronpa forums once more.

_I guess I’ll be buying more popcorn._

》* 。 • ˚ ˚ ˛ ˚ ˛ • 。* 。° 。* 。 • ˚《

Shuichi was interrupted from his job of pouring popcorn into two metal bowls by a knock on the door and a cheerful, “Saihara-chan? Is this the right apartment?”

He dropped the empty bags in the trash and made his way to the door, unlocking it and tugging it open. Standing outside was Kokichi. He was changed out of his school uniform, instead dressed in a white sweatshirt and checkered pants. _I guess he really likes checkers._

“Thank you for having me,” Kokichi bowed momentarily and then stood up straight, walking into the apartment. “Wow! This is huge!”

“I know,” Shuichi murmured, grabbing the bowls from the counter and placing them next to the couch. “We need to start on the seventh season, right?” He asked, trying to get straight to the point. It felt weird having somebody else in his house. He rarely ever got visitors unless it was his aunt coming to deep clean the place.

“Wow, so quick! Do you want me out of here that badly?” Kokichi teased but dropped onto the couch nevertheless, pulling his legs over the armrest and putting the popcorn in his lap. “Yup, seventh season!”

“Alright,” Shuichi muttered, leaning down to open up his Danganronpa DVD Set and insert the seventh season disc. He had bought all of them a few years ago; they had come with a Kirigiri body pillow and a Chiaki backpack.

He took a seat next to Kokichi and watched as the TV went from black to bright pink, showing the opening first, as always. Shuichi flicked through the options and clicked _start,_ bypassing the bonus features.

“How many seasons even are there?” Kokichi asked absently, not tearing his gaze away from the screen. Shuichi glanced at him. He didn’t know why, but the moment he looked, he couldn’t look away. Kokichi’s glittering eyes and scrunched nose was just so mesmerizing. _Seriously, Shuichi needed to get out more._

“Season 51 just started airing,” he replied.

Kokichi jumped around, looking at him in mock horror. “51? Damn! And you’ve watched all of them?”

Shuichi laughed. “Yup, I’ve seen them all!” The attention was nice, if not unusual.

“You must be a saint to have that much patience,” Kokichi teased, turning back around to watch the TV once more. Shuichi went silent, allowing him to pay attention to what was going on. The protagonist was just starting to wake up and look around the cavern she was stuck in.

Still, even as the season carried on, Shuichi just couldn’t manage to get that look on Kokichi’s face out of his mind.

》* 。 • ˚ ˚ ˛ ˚ ˛ • 。* 。° 。* 。 • ˚《

It didn’t take very long for Danganronpa binges to become a tradition. Pretty soon, Kokichi was going over to Shuichi’s apartment practically every day to sit on his couch and catch up on the new seasons. It was awkward in the beginning; they didn’t do very much chatting or joking. They would watch Danganronpa and then Kokichi would leave. It was only around the sixth visit when they began to get comfortable with each other and actually enjoy their time.

That was why it wasn’t as much of a surprise when Shuichi opened the door to see not only Kokichi but Battleship, too, tucked under his arm. “So that’s the game for today?” He asked, stepping aside to let his visitor in.

“Yeah! I used to play this game with my sisters all the time. They’re in college now so we don’t do it anymore but I thought you might like it,” Kokichi didn’t bother to bow like he used to. He just sauntered into the apartment and dropped onto the carpet, already beginning to pull out the pieces.

Shuichi shut the door with his foot and sat down across from him. “How do you play?”

“That is a very good question,” Kokichi said in a serious voice, raising his finger up. “And for that, I will give you an answer!” From then on, he took some time to explain the rules of the game.

“I get it now,” Shuichi said after the explanation, beginning to place his ship pieces in random spaces around the board. “So, who goes first?”

“You can,” Kokichi shrugged, looking up from his board. “The guest goes first!”

“But you’re the guest?” Shuichi said, tilting his head.

“Nope! This is officially _my_ home now. Your house has been confiscated from you. Better luck next time,” he didn’t even smile the whole time, clearly taking this very seriously. Against his better judgement, Shuichi cracked, breaking out in giggles.

“I don’t think you have the authority to do that,” he said between laughs, silently thanking the gods that he hadn’t been drinking water when Kokichi said that.

Kokichi was unusually quiet, remaining completely unresponsive. Shuichi looked up in confusion, furrowing his eyebrows. Kokichi still didn’t say anything, instead opting to just scan his face over and over again. His eyes were as wide as the moon and his mouth was hanging open, just slightly. Suddenly, Shuichi felt the need to pull his hat back on. “Is there something on my face?” He asked, bringing his hand up to his chin self-consciously.

Kokichi snapped to attention, the familiar smirk plastered back on his face. “I do have the authority to confiscate your house,” he said matter-of-factly, “because I’m the government! The president! A politician! I make the rules.”

Shuichi rolled his eyes. “Uh huh. Okay, is your battleship on A5?”

“Oooh! Miss!” Kokichi laughed and it was like their moment of awkward silence had never happened. They both fell into a rhythm, switching turns and yelling insults.

At that moment, Shuichi couldn’t even remember what it felt like to be alone.

》* 。 • ˚ ˚ ˛ ˚ ˛ • 。* 。° 。* 。 • ˚《

“We should go to my house tomorrow,” Kokichi said as he was leaving, his hand still resting on the door. “You’ve never been there before. It could be nice to hang out somewhere else.”

Shuichi pondered it for a moment. Normally, he wouldn’t accept going to another kid’s house. There were too many unknown variables; sketchy family members, cheap blankets, loud chihuahuas. It was a little too unpredictable, even for someone like him.

On the other hand, however, this was Kokichi. Even if it hadn’t been his original plan, he had come to trust him, even going so far as to call him a friend. What could possibly go wrong?

“Sure,” he finally agreed, kicking the toe of his shoe onto the floor. “Just text me the address.”

“I don’t need to do that!” Kokichi replied, tilting his head. “I’ll just pick you up where we usually see each other after school. We can walk together!”

“Oh,” Shuichi muttered, twiddling his thumbs. “Okay, that works.”

“I’ll see you then!” Kokichi cheered before shutting the door directly in Shuichi’s face.

And then he was alone again, with nothing but a computer, some expensive furniture and himself.

》* 。 • ˚ ˚ ˛ ˚ ˛ • 。* 。° 。* 。 • ˚《

“I’m home!” Kokichi called the second they stepped in the door, toeing off his shoes.

Shuichi followed his lead, adding on, “sorry for intruding!” Being inside was a relief; the walk to Kokichi’s house was longer than he thought it would be. He may have liked the cold, but that didn’t mean he enjoyed spending thirty minutes walking around in twenty-degree weather. Winter had crept up on him quickly and now all he could do was wish it was summer again.

“You could never intrude,” Kokichi rolled his eyes, grabbing his wrist and tugging him up the stairs. His house was totally different from Shuichi’s. Signs of life were everywhere he looked, from the anime posters on the wall to the empty soda cans on the banister.

Kokichi nudged him into a room and then shut the door, spinning around. “This is my bedroom! Bask in its glory!”

The room was just as Shuichi would have expected. It had a sort of organized chaos, covered in empty orange _Panta_ cans and spray paint bottles. “It’s different from my room,” he said, collapsing on the edge of the checkerboard bed.

“Clearly,” Kokichi drawled. “Your room’s walls are covered to the brim in Danganronpa merch! Seriously, don’t you have any photos? Selfies? Train tickets?”

“I don’t keep those kinds of things,” Shuichi said, shrugging. “I’m happy with my wall scrolls. What’s so wrong with merchandise?”

“Nothing’s wrong with merchandise!” Kokichi said quickly, bringing his hands up in a mock surrender. “It’s very _you_.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” he smiled. Kokichi slipped his scarf off and hung it up on his coat hanger. He reached his hand out and took Shuichi’s jacket, placing it right next to his own.

“Good, because that was what it was meant as,” Kokichi laughed, sitting down next to him. “I guess my dad isn’t home yet. He’ll probably drop in when he does, though.”

“What’s he like?”

“Just a normal dad,” Kokichi said. “Probably just like your dad. And speaking of your dad, why is he never there when I come over?”

“Because he doesn’t live with me,” Shuichi explained. “Him and my mom are overseas.”

“Oh,” Kokichi breathed, looking down at his hands. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” he replied, kicking his legs. “They’ve always been like that so it isn’t a problem.”

“Are you sure? It sure sounds like a problem,” Kokichi muttered. “They sound like a couple good-for-nothings.”

“They are good-for-nothings but it’s the standard for them. Don’t worry about it,” Shuichi waved him off. It was true, though; they were horrible. _Fucked,_ his mind supplied helpfully.

“Well, enough of that! If you say it isn’t a problem then it probably isn’t a problem,” Kokichi steered away from that subject, a huge grin stuck on his face once again. “Come here and choose a candle to light!”

Shuichi followed him to the dresser. On top of it sat five scented candles, all with different flavors. Kokichi took turns holding them up to Shuichi’s nose and letting him sniff them, absentmindedly talking about where he got each one of them. The whole situation felt oddly domestic, like they were a married couple something. Shuichi froze at the thought, his neck beginning to go warm. _No,_ he mentally scolded himself. _It’s not like you’re married. That’s weird._

“What’s wrong?” Kokichi asked, pausing from his rant. “Is there something wrong with this one?”

“No!” Shuichi yelped, straightening. “It smells good. Like apples.”

Kokichi giggled, pulling the candle away and putting it back on the dresser. “That’s probably because it’s _apple flavored_. Good going, detective! You’ve cracked the case,” the conversation slipped away from Shuichi’s sudden shock easily and he almost managed to forget he had that thought in the first place, instead opting to enjoy the time they had together to the best of his abilities.

It felt good to be away from his echoing apartment for a change.

》* 。 • ˚ ˚ ˛ ˚ ˛ • 。* 。° 。* 。 • ˚《

“Hurry up or we’ll miss it!” Kokichi yelled over the billowing wind, latching onto Shuichi’s hand and dragging him across the street. He didn’t even have time to enjoy the warmth of Kokichi’s purple-gloved hand intertwined with his own, instead distracted by his friend’s chaotic screaming.

Shuichi would have argued with him if he wasn’t completely right; just a second’s delay and they wouldn’t make it in time to see the tree lighting. Every year, their town lit up a tree with rainbow lights exactly a week before Christmas. He’d never actually gone before that year, however. Kokichi had insisted, saying that it was an experience that nobody deserved to miss out on.

Shuichi picked up the pace, running alongside him. They only stopped when they were as close to the tree as possible. By that time, both of them were gasping for air.

“Wow, that was close! We made it with only a minute to spare!” Kokichi declared, balling one fist under his chin excitedly.

“We wouldn’t have had to run if you hadn’t taken so long feeding that cat,” Shuichi pointed out once he had caught his breath, tucking his hair behind his ear. He wasn’t wearing his hat this time. Ever since he’d started hanging out with Kokichi, he had been wearing his hat less and less. He didn’t feel like he needed it quite as much anymore.

“The poor thing was starving! Being the kind president I am, I had to save her!”

Shuichi chuckled. “Of course. What was I thinking, insulting you like that?” He decided to ignore their still intertwined hands. If Kokichi wouldn’t talk about it, then neither would he.

Kokichi opened his mouth to speak but quickly shut it when a countdown started. Immediately, he spun around and pointed forward with his free hand, eyes practically twinkling under the star light. Yet again, Shuichi found himself absolutely mesmerized.

“Look, it’s starting!” Kokichi cheered. Shuichi forced himself to look away from his friend and instead focused his gaze on the tree. Three seconds passed and then the whole tree lit up with colors, shimmering and making all of the ornaments clear to see. Cheers broke out all around him, but he couldn’t even think to join them. Not when Kokichi had tugged on his arm, twirling him around.

They were silent for a moment, just staring at each other. Shuichi felt like goosebumps were rising all over his arms but he still refused to turn around. He couldn’t have even if he wanted to; not when Kokichi was watching him like that. Like he was special.

“Can I kiss you?” Kokichi suddenly asked, still not blinking. Shuichi felt like he was on fire. How could one question carry so much weight?

Shuichi nodded slowly, tightening his grip on his friend’s hand. “Please.”

Kokichi didn’t need to be told twice. He stood up on his tiptoes and leaned forward. Just like that, the inches between them vanished into nothing. That line, all of the work Shuichi put into keeping a border between them… It was gone and replaced with nothing but Kokichi.

Shuichi wasn’t sure what could truly be considered a kiss, but he knew this probably wasn’t it. It was more like pressing their lips together, but to him, it didn’t matter. To him, it was a confirmation that he wasn’t alone in his feelings.

Kokichi leaned back, staring up at him. It was only when he brought up a hand to wipe away a droplet that Shuichi realized he was crying. “What, was I that bad of a kisser?” He joked, tilting his head.

Shuichi tried to laugh but it came out as more of a stutter with the way his lips were quivering. “I really like you, Ouma.”

Kokichi’s eyes softened, the twinkling never fading for a second. “I really like you, too, Saihara-chan.”

Nothing else mattered. Kokichi returned his feelings and that was enough.

》* 。 • ˚ ˚ ˛ ˚ ˛ • 。* 。° 。* 。 • ˚《

Shuichi’s memories of his time before the killing game were still fuzzy. He couldn’t remember everything; just bits and pieces. Nothing was clear.

There was only one thing that was perfectly clear; the feeling of warm purple gloves tugged over his own cold hands made him feel more incomplete than an unfinished puzzle.

He didn’t wipe away his tears. Just stared out his window and wished that he never filled out that stupid Danganronpa application.

Society is fucked. That was the only conclusion he could come up with.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed my story! I almost made myself cry, I'm not going to lie. Either way, I'm actually really happy with how this turned out. This was originally going to be even sadder than this with much more detail on Shuichi's Danganronpa audition so just be grateful I didn't go through with it, lmao.   
> My biggest goal while writing this was to explore their pre game personalities much more. This is basically how I headcanon them. Although I'm happy with my other pregame fic, it was more of a pregame universe than pregame personalities. This one is much better in terms of that.   
> If you're interested in keeping up with me, consider following my tumblr (xxxbookaholic)! I mostly post A3! with a sidedish of Danganronpa. (Usually Saiouma.)  
> Please leave a comment (and kudos). It really encourages me! Have a nice rest of your day. <3


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